


all you felt has frozen underneath your scars

by i_was_human



Category: Lost in Translation (Webcomic)
Genre: Angst, Apathy, Car Accidents, Coma, Depression, Friendship, Gen, Guilt, Hurt No Comfort, Introspection, Kim Daehyun-centric, Mind the Tags, Muteness, No beta we die like mne, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Survivor Guilt, Temporary Muteness, Therapy, not named but it's there, what is it with me and not including minsoo in stuff huh, youngjoon is the best friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:01:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26034592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_was_human/pseuds/i_was_human
Summary: after the accident, three members of mayhem are left comatose.daehyun's only slightly better, but not really.
Relationships: Ahn Jaewon | Wyld & Kang Dongho | D.Min & Kim Daehyun & Lee Minsoo, Ahn Jaewon | Wyld & Kim Daehyun, Im Youngjoon | Young J & Kim Daehyun
Comments: 8
Kudos: 26
Collections: I Found These Masterpieces And Fell In Love





	all you felt has frozen underneath your scars

**Author's Note:**

> ⊹ - daehyun  
> ☾ - jaewon  
> ♬ - dongho  
> ∞ - minsoo

⊹

It won't come off.

Daehyun shakes in the plastic waiting chairs, trying to rub the dried blood off his hands. His hands tremble, the bandages wrapped around his head rough and constricting, but he keeps picking at it.

_"Kim Daehyun-ssi?"_

Blood on his hands.

Minsoo's blood.

Minsoo's blood, after the crash threw him through the windshield.

Minsoo.

Minsoo's not here.

Daehyun doesn't know where he is.

_"Kim-ssi, please look at me."_

Whatever they're saying is lost to a distant fog. 

All Daehyun can remember is the car swerving in front of them, the crumpling of metal and the screams, _god_ , the screams.

_"Can you handle him?"_

_"Yeah. Daehyun-ah, can you look at me?"_

Dongho, crumpled on the floor, blood leaking from a gash in his forehead and breathing little more than a wheeze, and he _wouldn't wake up_ , no matter how much Daehyun shook him, he _wouldn't wake up_ -

_"I'll get him out of here."_

A hand wraps around his wrist and pulls him to his feet, and Daehyun _pick-pick-picks_ at the dried blood on his hands, Minsoo's blood on his hands, Minsoo lying limp in the snow, a pool of red around him, and he wouldn't wake up either, and Daehyun screamed to the skies for help, but nobody ever came-

_"Daehyun-ah, can you look at me?"_

Daehyun doesn't want to look at him.

He wants his hyungs. 

He wants to know they're okay, not hooked up to machines and wrapped in bandages, not looking _so so small_ and not covered in blood but looking even more dead despite it-

_"Daehyun-ah."_

Someone taps his cheek, and he forces his swimming vision to focus on the man in front of him - dark hair, glasses, suit, his manager. _"We're going back to the dorms, okay?"_

He can't go back there.

He can't go back there and see the empty halls, empty rooms, _empty empty empty_ because his hyungs, his best friends, are in the hospital, and he doesn't even know if they're going to _live_ , and he _can't_ -

Some distant part of his mind registers that it's snowing, registers people are staring, registers they recognize him and the blood on his cheeks and in his hair and coating his hands like macabre gloves, but he doesn't care.

His manager tugs him through the parking lot, and as soon as his eyes land on the van, he can't breathe.

_The van sitting upside-down, buried in the snow, the van crumpled and ruined and broken and Daehyun can't breathe-_

He wrenches his arm from the manager's grasp and takes off at a dead sprint, tears stinging his eyes as his frozen feet slam against the pavement.

He doesn't know where he's running. 

Nowhere.

Anywhere.

He just has to get out of here.

_"Wait- Daehyun?"_

He's cold, and it's snowing, and he's crawling through the snow, blood on his hands as he sobs and screams for Minsoo to _wake up_ and he doesn't know where Jaewon is, blurry eyes unable to tell his red hair apart from the red smears all over the bark and snow, and they're going to die there, they're going to die-

Someone grabs his collar, yanking him back, and he falls flat on his ass, tears dripping from his eyes even as his hands scrape against the pavement. 

He doesn't have the right to cry.

He's alive, isn't he?

He's alive, and he's lucid, and he got out of the whole thing with nothing more than a scratch on the head, and it _should've been one of them why wasn't it one of them_ -

_"Daehyun-ah, can you look at me?"_

Someone crouches in front of him, and Daehyun chokes on a sob, the world swimming in front of him as hot tears (that's not right it's cold it's cold and he's sitting on the floor of a van in his shirt and jeans and shaking like a leaf and his hyungs won't wake up) drip off his chin. 

His hyungs are dead.

His hyungs aren't dead.

He doesn't know anymore. They _must_ be dead, because there was so much blood and _red red red_ on the snow, but Daehyun just came from the hospital, so they can't be dead.

Right?

_"What's wrong with him?"_

_"Shock, I think. Daehyun-ah, where's your manager?"_

It's cold.

It's cold, and Daehyun's cold, and his hands are bloody and it's Minsoo's blood, Minsoo's blood fresh and smearing over his palms, smearing over the roof and over his hands and he screams, screams until his voice stops working, but _nobody comes_ -

_"Holy fuck- catch him!"_

Sleep isn't a respite.

It wasn't then, and it isn't now.

⊹

The next time Daehyun wakes up, he wishes he hadn't. 

He stares at the ceiling, heart empty, and he finds he can't muster up any sort of feeling one way or another.

He's just numb.

He's numb from the cold that seeps into your bones and stays there, numb even to the gnawing pain in his gut, numb to the way his hands sting from cuts left by jagged nails.

It's better this way.

"Daehyun-ah?"

It's not like yesterday - he can process the world around him, knows he's lying in an unfamiliar bed, knows he should be worried - but he can't muster up the energy to care.

"It's Youngjoon-hyung. You're at SA1NT's dorm."

He manages to tilt his head to the side, blinking a few times until Youngjoon's blurry form sharpens into something marginally less blurry.

An answer to a question he never asked. 

"I'm... I'm glad you're okay. I was really worried when I heard."

 _Heard what?_ a distant part of Daehyun bitterly muses. _Heard that we were missing, or that we were found?_

"I... I'm so glad you're alive, Daehyun-ah."

Daehyun wishes he shared the sentiment.

After all, why is he the one that's alive?

Why is he, the one too weak to drag Jaewon in from the cold, the one too quiet to attract attention, the one _too scared_ to do anything other than hope and beg and pray - why is _he_ the one who survived?

He should be dead.

It would be better if he had died.

If it could bring any of them back, give any of them even a moment longer-

he would die for that, he thinks.

"Can't... can't you say something?"

Why bother?

Words weren't enough then, and they won't be enough now.

Nothing can be enough to fix the sheer despair in Youngjoon's eyes, nothing can replace that disdain, and Daehyun can't see a reason to try.

⊹

There's nothing out of place in this room.

A weak stream of sunlight filters through the window, too weak to light up the white sheets covering his hyung's body.

White sheets, white walls, white bandages.

Daehyun clutches his hand, staring down at his own paper-white skin.

He fits, here.

A specter, a ghost - perhaps he didn't survive the crash, after all.

Isn't that a wonderfully macabre thought.

The heart monitor beeps - a steady rhythm - and it's the only thing breaking the oppressive silence in the room.

Daehyun appreciates it.

He's never liked silence - never enjoyed spaces without people or music or _something_ to break the stifling monotony - but when every quiet room feels like kneeling in the overturned van, _silent_ save for the occasional gust of wind, Daehyun appreciates this little bit of noise.

It reminds him of the times he'd wrap his arm around Minsoo's chest, checking gently - so gently - to make sure he was still breathing, to make sure he hadn't succumbed to the bleeding or his injuries or the cold, because, like then, there's nothing, save Daehyun and a razor-thin proof of life.

It's one he clings to.

Minsoo's hand feels small in his own, bandages winding around his head and chest, and Daehyun's gaze drifts to the bright flowers sitting next to his bed - a pointless effort from a brother who's never done enough.

Sunflowers.

Too bright for this funeral home, too bright for this hospital, too bright for the black-and-white image Minsoo's become.

Daehyun glares at them - gold, gold like his shirt, gold like the sun, gold like warmth and happiness - and keeps staring.

Anything that isn't white.

⊹

He has to go home eventually.

The dorm is quiet, quiet in a way it can never really be with four occupants, quiet and filled with ghosts, Daehyun chief among them.

He hasn't spoken since the accident.

He doesn't want to try.

He toes off his shoes near the door, and keeps his gaze fixed on something safe, but there isn't much.

The blood caked under his nails, stuck and dried despite days of furious handwashing.

That's something.

He lingers at the door to his and Jaewon's room, gaze landing on the remnants of someone else's life, and _oh_ , the Daehyun who lived here before never knew what it was like to feel pain like this, never knew what it was like to sit in an overturned car and hope to a merciless god that the three most important people in his life would wake up, would stay breathing _just until tomorrow_ , never knew what it was like to stumble out in the cold with the wind biting his cheeks and arms and hair in hopes of finding the backpack he knows Minsoo had because he's _so, so hungry_ and they need to eat, the freezing temperatures be damned.

That Daehyun knew nothing.

Daehyun as he is now - dead in all ways except one - pulls the door shut and heads back for the door.

There's nothing for him here.

Nothing, save clothes that no longer fit and ghosts he can't bear to see. 

It's snowing again when he leaves, and he stares up at the sky, eyes dull and hope a distant memory.

He doesn't know where he's going.

All he knows is that it has to be better than here.

⊹

Somehow, his feet lead him to a bridge. 

He leans against the railing, arms numb, and stares at nothing in particular.

Maybe if he's lucky, a car will hit him.

Then - _then_ \- he'll finally be able to pay in some way for all the mistakes he's made. 

He should've done better, should've been better. He made it out almost unscathed, and yet he couldn't save any of them.

Why?

He doesn't know if they're alive or dead - doesn't know whether to trust his memories or his mind - and it's a sickening tangle of thoughts only resolved in the moment. 

Either way, Daehyun's a failure.

Daehyun's a failure and lonely and _so horribly alive_ while his hyungs are hooked up to machines and _trying not to die_ and here _he_ is, standing on a bridge and _perfectly okay_.

He should've died in the car crash.

God only knows Minsoo and Dongho could've handled that, god knows they could've done this all so much better. They're both capable - both strong and competent and _brave_ \- and Daehyun hates the fact that someone as weak and cowardly as him was the one to survive when he should've _died_.

He should have died in that car crash.

This is a fact.

...maybe it's an equivalent exchange.

Maybe in order for his hyungs to live, he has to die.

That... that seems fair, right?

Daehyun isn't thinking when he hops up on the railing, isn't thinking beyond _"it's cold"_ and _"I'm sorry"_ and _"I can fix this"_. 

After all, the universe wanted him to die in that crash.

He's just... returning things to the status quo, as it were.

He closes his eyes, leans forwards, and falls.

⊹

_"Hello? Kim Daehyun-ssi? We're calling to inform you that your friend, Ahn Jaewon-ssi, is awake."_

☾

In the entire time Jaewon's been in the hospital, he hasn't heard a thing about Daehyun.

His memories of the accident are fuzzy at best - the only thing he can really remember an all-encompassing sense of _cold_ \- but occasionally, in his dreams, one phrase floats through the air, tangling with the wind and screams.

_"Hyung? Please... please wake up."_

And it _sounds_ like Daehyun, Jaewon _thinks_ it's Daehyun, but he _doesn't understand_.

He doesn't understand a lot of things about the accident, actually. Doesn't understand _why_ or _when_ or _what_ or anything more than the bare basics, really.

A car hit their car, and their van went off the road.

That's it.

That's all he has.

He doesn't know what happened to Minsoo or Dongho or Daehyun. He doesn't know what happened to their driver.

All he knows is that he's alive.

It's a horrible state of being, to be sure.

He's floating in this state of limbo, paralyzed from fear (because what if he _is_ the last member of mayhem left? what will their fans think?) when the door creaks open, and he raises his head, gaze landing on his manager.

Well. _Their_ manager, but same difference.

"I realize we've been keeping a lot of things from you," his manager states, and Jaewon nods, because really, _what else can he do?_ "and I'm sorry about that. Today, though, they arrested the person driving the other car - a woman named Kim Sohee."

For a moment, Jaewon can't breathe.

_No._

_No-no-no-no-no._

Sohee- Sohee can't be after him again. She can't be.

 _Can't be_.

"Preliminary reports indicate she was planning to drag you from the crash site," and Jaewon nearly vomits then and there, "but apparently, the fact that Daehyun was still conscious scared her off."

And-

wait.

"Daehyun-ah?"

Jaewon's eyes widen, and he grips his sheets, desperate gaze flitting to his manager. "Is he okay? What happened to him?"

The manager winces, and somehow, Jaewon has the feeling he isn't going to like this answer. "...he's currently in the hospital."

Which, okay, makes sense.

So why did he say that so strangely?

"What happened to him?" Jaewon asks, and the manager's gaze flits to the papers in front of him, the headlines scratched out in sharpie.

"...Dongho-yah is awake as well," the man finally states, and Jaewon frowns, bewildered at the non-sequitur. "He asked to see you."

"Can I go see him?"

"In a wheelchair," their manager replies, and Jaewon smiles - soft and weak, but still there. "I'll let him know you're coming."

As the man leaves, Jaewon doesn't miss that he never answered his question. 

♬

When Jaewon arrives, the first thing Dongho notices is that he looks like shit.

It's hardly surprising. Dongho's only seen his own reflection once in the past two days, and he looks a lot like shit, too.

But Jaewon-

Jaewon looks _guilty_.

Guilty over _something_ , though what, Dongho has no clue. His hands are clenched in his lap, bandages wrapped around his head and tufts of red hair peeking out from the gauze, and Dongho levels him with a passionless glare.

"You look like hell."

Jaewon's head jerks up, and he laughs - an automatic response, if Dongho had to guess. "Thanks, hyung."

Weird response, but okay.

"Have you seen Minsoo-yah or Daehyun-ah?" Dongho asks, and, before Jaewon can reply, "I'd go see them myself, except..."

 _Except_ his legs aren't exactly equipped to hold up his weight at the moment. _Except_ he already tried and got yelled at by nurses.

He's going to try again, of course.

Jaewon shakes his head, the movement jostling greasy strands of crimson. "They won't let me see them either."

Dongho frowns, lips pursing into a thin line. "Odd."

Jaewon nods, and they fall into amicable silence.

Dongho can tell Jaewon's thinking about something - he has that furrow in his brow that always accompanies it - and he can't blame him.

There's a lot that doesn't make sense.

If they can't see Daehyun because he's still recovering from the car accident, then why does he remember otherwise? If Daehyun's still stuck somewhere he can't leave, then why does Dongho remember a hand in his and a gentle pressure on his chest?

It doesn't add up.

Really, if Dongho had his _phone_ , this wouldn't be an issue. And yet, unfortunately, due to the fact that screens currently make him want to puke, he's not allowed to have it, which, _really_?

Dongho's a full-ass adult. He should be allowed to choose to have his phone and throw up because of it.

...that sounds incredibly petty when he puts it that way.

Still. 

A small sniff rings through the air, and Dongho turns, gaze landing on Jaewon. The younger man has his head in his hands, shoulders shaking with ill-concealed sobs, and Dongho, helpless to stop it, simply places a hand on his shoulder.

Nothing less, nothing more.

It's the most comfort he can provide.

☾

Occasionally, Jaewon wonders if the others blame him. 

Logically, the answer is no. Logically, there's no way they could know, and even if there was, why would they blame him?

But his brain never listened to logic.

His brain never cared whether or not these beliefs were founded or not, and _oh_ , he knows they aren't but that doesn't stop him from believing them.

It would be so much easier, so much better, so much _simpler_ if it did. It would be so much _better_ if Jaewon could just force himself to believe that _this isn't his fault_ but _god_ if that doesn't feel like the biggest lie he's ever told.

Well. Second-biggest.

Actually, he's told so many lies that he's not even sure where this - a lie of omission - falls on the scale. Is it better or worse than lying to his parents, his group members, the world?

If he looks at it that way, it's just another lie.

But if Daehyun was awake during the crash, he must've seen Sohee - which is a terrifying thought all its own, because the idea of Daehyun being exposed to that woman _scares him_ \- and he must already know, which begs the question: where is Daehyun?

In the end, the answer comes when he least expects it.

(most things do.)

He's sitting in bed, trying and failing to read a book, when the door creaks open, an unfamiliar form stepping into his room.

But it's not unfamiliar, is it?

Daehyun stares at him, and for a moment, he looks as if he's seen a ghost. His skin is ghostly-pale, a scar stretching across his forehead, and the more Jaewon looks at him, the more inconsistencies he sees. 

He's all but drowning in the clothes he's wearing - clothes too light for the cold weather, at that - and his eyes are dull, devoid of all excitement and life. But more than that-

he hasn't made a sound.

"Daehyun-ah?" Jaewon ventures, and he hopes to _god_ he's mistaken, because there's no way this ghost-like figure is his dongsaeng, no way this pale, washed-out person is _Kim Daehyun_.

And yet, instead of responding, Daehyun runs. 

Jaewon crawls into his wheelchair as quickly as he can despite knowing Daehyun's probably long gone, and he wheels into the hall, gaze flitting through the space in hopes of locating his dongsaeng.

Nothing.

What was that?

⊹

Even with Youngjoon there, the dorm is still oppressively silent.

Daehyun sits on the couch, gaze pinned on the television and a blanket tossed haphazardly over his chest. He's looking, but not seeing, replaying the encounter with Jaewon again and again in his mind.

Jaewon must blame him.

He can't _not_.

After all, it's Daehyun's fault Jaewon nearly died. It's Daehyun's fault Jaewon got hurt, Daehyun's fault Jaewon spent so long in the cold, _Daehyun's fault_ because he was _too fucking scared_ to help him.

And here he is, once again.

Too fucking scared to do anything.

God, what a joke he is.

Youngjoon taps the wall three times - dinner's ready - and Daehyun moves to the table on autopilot, brain wrapped in a comforting haze.

Can't deal with your issues if you ignore they happened.

It's working fine for him so far, at least.

Youngjoon isn't much of a talker - their pair used to work on a give-and-take, with Daehyun spewing nonsense and Youngjoon listening to it - but now that he doesn't speak, their interactions simply pass in tense silence.

Daehyun hates it. 

He hates that he can't go anywhere alone, hates that his managers roped Youngjoon into this (ignoring the fact that youngjoon grabbed his hands and told him there's nowhere he'd rather be than at daehyun's side) hates the pills he doesn't take, _hates hates hates_ the fact that his hyungs are still in the hospital _because of him_.

They don't want to see him, anyways.

Youngjoon stares at him, eyes shining with ill-concealed pity, and Daehyun stares down at his nearly full bowl, the comforting haze giving way to a fresh wave of self-loathing. 

He wishes Youngjoon hadn't fished him out.

He wishes Youngjoon hadn't pulled him out of the river, wishes he could've just drowned, because _god_ is he sick of repeating this song and dance where he looks at the old Daehyun, then looks at himself, and realizes _just how lacking_ he is.

Nobody wants this Daehyun, but this is the only Daehyun he deserves to be.

It's a horrible cycle that repeats in his mind, _loop-loop-loop_ , each turn digging him deeper and deeper into a hole of self-loathing, and he just wants it to _stop_.

He wants to stop.

The rest of the night passes in much the same way, and once Daehyun crawls into bed, he stares at the wall, mind wrapped in too many thoughts to sleep.

Youngjoon places a plushie in his arms as he does every night, and he pulls the blanket up to Daehyun's shoulders as he does every night, lingering by his bedside for a moment before sighing and heading to the kitchen.

Daehyun hopes he leaves.

(he knows he won't, but he can hope.)

♬

"Who are you?"

The boy standing in the doorway is tall, navy hair mussed and a too-large jacket hanging off his shoulders. He looks vaguely familiar, but Dongho can't quite place him as he moves into the room, taking a seat by his bedside.

"Im Youngjoon," he replies, and Dongho can tell he's uneasy. "I'm Daehyun-ah's friend."

Ah.

Wait.

"You've seen him?"

A number of emotions cross Youngjoon's face at that - shock, grief, fear, sadness - before he eventually settles on a careful blankness. "I'm taking care of him."

"Taking care of him?"

"Well," Youngjoon murmurs, "Kyunghun-ah is watching him right now, but usually I'm with him."

"Why?"

Daehyun's capable, Dongho knows. 

Could he have really been hurt badly enough to require constant care?

No. That doesn't match up with what Jaewon said. 

He's missing something, here.

"...I think he needs to see you."

"Then why hasn't he?"

Youngjoon's expression twists, and Dongho watches him, unwilling to cut him off. When the younger man finally does speak, it's a low rasp, one born from hours upon hours of sleepless nights and too-long days, the likes of which Dongho knows far too well.

"It's not my place to say."

Silence reigns for a moment as Dongho turns the phrase over and over in his mind, lips pursed in a thin line. 

What could be bad enough that Daehyun can't come to see them?

"I want to see him," Dongho simply states, and leaves it there.

Those five words say enough, after all.

He can see a war waging in Youngjoon's eyes as he nods, bolting to his feet and stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Okay. I'll- I'll bring him over soon."

And with that, he rushes out of the room.

Dongho watches him go, worry coiling in his gut, and he wonders _what happened to Daehyun?_

⊹

The morning before Daehyun's set to see Dongho, he wakes up at exactly 2:46.

He jolts upright, lips locked shut, and his head throbs as the nightmare replays itself in front of him - _Dongho dead and Minsoo dead and Daehyun's crawling towards Jaewon, trying-trying-trying to reach him but never quite making it_ \- memory leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. 

It's not memory.

It might as well be.

He pads towards the kitchen, steps soft, ghost-like, and as he flicks on the light, for a moment, he sees his hands coated in Minsoo's blood.

He doesn't scream (it's a near thing) and simply presses one blood-coated hand to his chest, trying to regulate the jackrabbit-beating to something manageable. 

It's not very successful.

He flicks off the light, collapsing into the couch and staring out the window. It's dark - no longer snowing - and a part of Daehyun darkly wonders if he's going to see another winter.

And isn't _that_ just the kind of stunningly macabre thought that three a.m. brings. 

He's not sure how long he sits there, memory mingling with dreams in his mind until they're so hopelessly intertwined that he doesn't know where one starts and the other ends, but at some point, Youngjoon pads out of wherever the hell he sleeps (daehyun neither knows nor cares) and sits next to him, a mug in his hands and lips curled into a strange sort of smile.

Youngjoon's good at that, Daehyun thinks, smiling wide enough that it almost reaches his eyes. 

After another hour or three there, Daehyun crawls into the shower and throws on some clothes, moving almost entirely on autopilot as he yanks a brush through his hair. Clumps of blond-black come out with it, and he stares at the brush for a moment, gaze empty before shuffling back to his (his and jaewon's, but jaewon's dead or doesn't want to see him or both or neither) room and yanking on some socks. 

He doesn't talk to Youngjoon as they drive to the hospital, and Youngjoon doesn't initiate it.

Daehyun can't blame him. He wouldn't want to talk at him, either.

They trek up the stairs, and Daehyun can feel his heart thudding heavy in his chest (and this is irrational, strange, a foregone conclusion) with each step they take towards Dongho's hospital room. 

He steps in the doorway-

and there he is.

Dongho's sitting on the edge of the bed, wearing normal clothes (normal clothes not hospital clothes) and looking a lot more _alive_ than he was when Daehyun last saw him (low bar, daehyun thought he was dead) and Daehyun's torn between crying and screaming and running away, but he's always been one to _freeze_ when confronted with something terrifying, and freeze he does.

Dongho stands, and there's a nasty gash slashing across his cheek, stretching from his ear to his mouth, and it twists when he's smiling, and he's _smiling_ , and Daehyun doesn't know what to do.

"Hey, Dae-yah."

Behind him, Daehyun can hear the hospital door click shut, and a part of him bemoans the loss of Youngjoon, but a larger part of him is focused on _Dongho's here Dongho's smiling at him Dongho's here and okay and alive_ and he wants to _run_ but the door's shut.

Dongho stands, and despite being a bit shorter, he still seems so much larger than life (except for when he looked so so small curled up on the floor-roof of the van, blood leaking from cuts on his face and not moving) and he _is_. One hand comes up to cup Daehyun's cheek, and he blinks, eyes widening as Dongho brushes a hot tear (and it's hot, it's so, so hot, dongho's hand is so hot and warm and it feels like burning) from his cheek.

"Daehyun-ah?"

 _He used his full name,_ a part of Daehyun notes, but he's so busy trying not to cry or scream or run or wrap Dongho in the tightest hug he can because Dongho wouldn't like that and oh _god_ why did he come here this was a _horrible_ idea-

Arms wrap around his back, and Daehyun's brain shudders to a halt.

Because Dongho.

Dongho is hugging him. 

Dongho's hugging him and patting his back and Daehyun-

Daehyun doesn't understand.

He must know, must know that Daehyun got out unscathed while the rest of them nearly died, must know that Daehyun was too weak and scared to do anything, must know that Daehyun's so fucked up he can't even _talk right_ , but he's hugging him anyways.

Why?

"It's okay," Dongho murmurs, and Daehyun wants to laugh or maybe cry at how bad Dongho is at this, but it's _Dongho_ and he's _alive_ and Daehyun's still frozen, heart pounding in his chest even as Dongho rubs gentle circles into his back.

God, isn't it so fucked up that Dongho's trying to make Daehyun comfortable, and Daehyun _wants to be_ comfortable, but he just _can't_?

Daehyun's frozen, has been ever since that day, but Dongho's the hottest fire he's ever known, and even if he has hundreds of questions and fears that gnaw at his mind, he relaxes - slowly, so slowly - into Dongho's touch, and he's sure he's doing this wrong, _so sure_ , because this used to be so easy but now it's so _hard_.

Still - Dongho doesn't let go, and for that, Daehyun is grateful.

♬

Youngjoon spares him a smile when he reopens the door, Daehyun's hand in his, and he considers that a win.

"Watch him," Youngjoon tells him, eyes gunmetal-stormcloud gray, gray against the walls and against his too-pale skin. "I mean it. He might try and leave, and I can't-"

He leaves the sentence unfinished, but Dongho doesn't know enough to fill in the gaps. 

"Can't?"

Daehyun's hand comes up to grip his shoulder for a moment - just a moment - and it's so painfully reminiscent of the old Daehyun that Dongho nearly sobs.

What happened to him?

"I can't fish him out of the river again."

Time slows to a halt. 

What?

Dongho turns, searching Daehyun's face for- for _reproach_ , for _fury_ , for _anything_ at this blatant lie-

but all he sees is horrible, twisted apathy.

No.

"Daehyun," and his voice comes out twisted, strained, wrecked in a way he didn't think possible. "Daehyun-ah, look at me."

Daehyun's gaze meets his, dull and broken and _empty_ , and Dongho-

Dongho doesn't understand.

What happened?

But people are staring, people _always_ stare, so Dongho grabs Daehyun's hand and pulls him forwards, pulls him down the stairs and out the door and tries not to think about the fact that Daehyun's just... following. No resistance, no questions as to where they're going, just-

silent complacence. 

Truth be told, even Dongho doesn't know where they're going, only that he'll know it when he sees it.

He pulls Daehyun forwards for a few minutes before eventually catching sight of an alleyway, and he tugs him in it, only letting go of his hand once they're firmly in shadow. Daehyun stares at him - blond hair stringy and eyes _dull dull dull_ \- and Dongho leans against the wall, trying to summon up the confidence he has in every other situation.

"Why, Dae?"

Daehyun doesn't reply.

 _Oh_ , he looks ghostly in this light - the faint sun streaming down giving him an unearthly glow - and Dongho _hates_ seeing him like this, hates how he really doesn't look any different from Minsoo in his bed, wires hooked up to his arms and machines _beep-beep-beep_ ing in an attempt to keep him alive. 

They're both dead. 

One is just... a bit more animated than the other.

He shakes the thought away - it's helping nobody - and steps forwards, unsure of what exactly he's trying to achieve. "Dae."

Oh, truth be told, he's so very poor at this, but he _has to know_.

"Daehyun-ah, talk to me."

Daehyun stares at him, expression blanketed in apathy, and Dongho feels something deep in his chest shatter.

 _Something_ hurt his dongsaeng - hurt him badly enough that he would want to jump off a bridge to escape it - and Dongho doesn't know how to fix this, or if he even can.

"Dae..."

He steps forwards, and Daehyun goes stiff, his entire body turning completely rigid in an instant. And this-

Daehyun's always been _easy_ , that's the thing. With Jaewon, it's like walking on a minefield - never sure where to step, what's okay to say, what isn't, and you can't barrel your way through, because you'll just end up hurt - and Minsoo is like sparring - don't overreach, react and act in equal measure, stay in sync - but Daehyun's always been _easy_.

Now, though?

Now it's like he's a box with its key locked inside. 

"What are you afraid of, Daehyun?"

It comes out sharp, cutting, and Daehyun flinches, eyes going impossibly wider as he backs into the wall. And he looks-

he looks _afraid_.

Fuck.

"I'm not angry," Dongho clarifies, but Daehyun gives him the look - the _I don't believe you_ look that tugs on something in Dongho's chest - before the familiar curtain of apathy falls. "What happened, Daehyun?"

It's circuitous - Dongho needs to know what Daehyun's worried about, but Daehyun won't tell him for reasons unknown, and Dongho won't know why Daehyun won't tell him unless he tells him, and _agh_.

Dongho _hates_ Catch-22s. 

Well. At least they have time to figure it out.

(two days, really, because that's when jaewon gets discharged, and dongho is _not_ throwing that locked box into the minefield.)

⊹

He wants to talk to Dongho.

Really, he does.

The thing is-

Dongho isn't Minsoo.

Dongho's sharp edges and tough love, and Daehyun doesn't want to bother him with how fucked-up he is, doesn't want to bother him with the sheer quantity of bullshit that is his life, and _god_ does he not want him to know how weak he is.

Which-

 _selfish_.

This is temporary, he knows. It's only going to last until Dongho finds out what Daehyun's done, only going to last until Dongho finds out how much of a weak and selfish person Daehyun really is, and then they're all going to _leave_ -

 _He should really get it over with sooner_ , he thinks. 

It'd be better that way.

He wakes up at exactly 1:59 in the morning, and like every day, floats out to the living room and stares at the blank television.

It's a simple song and dance, but it's one he doesn't have to think about, and that's always better.

Thinking leads to guilt leads to wishing he could jump off that bridge again, and _nobody_ needs that.

It's fascinating - the paradox, here. Logically, Dongho and Youngjoon would be upset, but Daehyun knows that's just because they don't know what he's done because he's _too fucking cowardly_ to tell them, but-

he _is_ afraid.

That's the long and short of it. Daehyun is afraid to tell them the truth, and it's slowly killing him.

But he can't lose them.

If he tells them the truth, he will lose them, and maybe it would be better that way, but Daehyun is _so, so selfish_ -

"Can't sleep?"

Dongho's voice breaks the silence, and Daehyun turns, blinking _slowslowslow_ at him. 

He doesn't reply.

"I can't, either."

Dongho takes a seat on the couch next to him, and Daehyun keeps his gaze fixed on the television, on his own ghastly reflection in the black screen, and he hates what he sees.

"Do you want a hug?"

No.

Yes.

Daehyun doesn't move. No, he _freezes_ , because that's all he can do when faced with a choice he doesn't have an immediate answer to.

(he _freezes_ just like he did that day, just like he did in the snow and the cold and he failed-)

Dongho slides over, and just like he did in the hospital, he wraps him in a hug. Slowly, slowly, he pulls Daehyun into his arms, and Dongho's not a tactile person, Daehyun _knows_ , but he is (used to be) so this must be for Daehyun's benefit, which makes how frozen he is all the worse. 

"Talk to me," Dongho whispers (begs) and Daehyun stays frozen, every muscle tensed but mind screaming for him to _move do something say something do anything_ but he _can't_. "Please."

 _"You'd hate me if you knew,"_ Daehyun wants to say, wants to tell Dongho to _leave_ because he's going to do it _anyways_ and Daehyun would really rather have it happen _sooner_ rather than _later_ (that's a fucking lie) but Dongho's so warm and strong and _here_ , and though Daehyun doesn't move, frozen tears leak from his eyes nonetheless.

There is no dam breaking. It's not like in the movies where the main characters hug and everything's all better, where they hug and cry and everything goes away. 

But Dongho's here, warm and comforting and strong all at once, and Daehyun slowly, slowly lets himself thaw, relaxing into his touch a bit more each second.

It hurts - hurts like putting a freezing limb in boiling water - but Dongho strokes his hair and holds Daehyun as he cries, silent, wracking sobs that leave him breathless and foolishly hoping, and Daehyun wants _so badly_ to believe it's worth it, wants _so badly_ to be brave, but he doesn't know how.

"I'm sorry," Daehyun finally rasps, voice coming out low and cracked and _broken_ , and to his credit, Dongho doesn't comment on it.

No, he just holds Daehyun tighter, 

"There's nothing to be sorry for."

 _God_ is that a lie.

∞

"Minsoo-yah?"

Silence.

"It's Minsung. I brought you more flowers."

Silence. 

"...they're sunflowers. It's... it's not that bright in here, but I thought you'd like them."

Silence.

"I'm sorry I can't come more, Minsoo-yah. We're prepping for comeback, so it's really hard to get free time, but... I should come more."

Silence.

"I know I haven't been a good brother. I _know_. I just... please wake up, Minsoo. Please."

Silence.

Pressure on his hand.

"We can go to the arcade like you always wanted, hm? Go to the arcade and play that game you love - Dance Dance something? I'll take the day off and we can go to the beach. Eomma would love that."

Silence.

"..."

Silence.

"I... I don't know what else to say, other than 'I'm sorry'. I don't think there's anything I can say."

Silence.

"Just... just wake up, please. Please, Minsoo."

Silence.

☾

Sometimes, Jaewon wishes he was still sedated.

It'd be better that way - better to be sedated and float in a haze of nonsense than to be haunted by memories and dreams alike - but, of course, he can't just _ask_ to be sedated. It doesn't work that way.

Probably.

Most likely.

He isn't going to try, at least. 

Even if it would make things easier, even if it would stop him from seeing Sohee in every shadow, even if it would drive the memories from his mind-

he isn't going to try.

He's not even sure if this is cowardly or brave or foolish or something else entirely, not sure if this is a good idea or a bad one, but he knows it's _his_ idea, and nothing is going to make him reconsider.

Though his nightmares do make a compelling case. 

Sleep eludes him, each night haunted by shadows and knives and the skidding of tires, and not knowing what happened is just as dangerous as knowing, Jaewon thinks, because his brain is concocting all sorts of horrible ideas - Daehyun seeing Sohee, Sohee about to drag him into the woods until Daehyun stops her, an all-encompassing _cold_ that feels far too real to just be a dream - but god if he isn't so, so tired of spending every night awake. 

At least he'll be able to go home soon.

He called his mom the other day - told her he'd just been busy with training and that he'd come home soon - and the lie burned his tongue.

Would it be better if he hadn't called?

Is active lying better than simply staying silent?

He doesn't know anymore.

He's just-

he's lonely. 

The shadows on the walls are long and haunting, each one potentially hiding someone who could want to kill him, and this unhealthy dose of paranoia isn't helping him, he _knows_ , but he can't bring himself to believe in _safety_.

Not when Sohee's still out there.

And in the end, it's his fault, isn't it?

Dongho's concussion and scars, Minsoo's _fucking coma_ -

his fault.

His fault, because he decided to let Sohee go.

Logically, he couldn't've known. There's no way he could've known. But even if he _had_ , would he have let the police take her?

The answer is no, he knows, and that's what scares him.

♬

Daehyun still won't talk to him.

It's _horrible_ , watching him drift around the dorm, eyes dull and expression lifeless, and Dongho is in no way, shape, or form equipped to handle this.

So he calls their manager.

He calls their manager, and their manager calls someone, and someone calls someone, and it's fascinating how the words "idol" and "suicide risk" spur people into motion. 

Of course, some extra bills can grease the wheels.

It's quite a bit of money, but Dongho can't bring himself to care. He'll pay whatever it takes if it can bring some of the spark back to Daehyun's lifeless eyes, if it can make things even slightly better for his dongsaeng.

And god does Daehyun need it.

He doesn't sleep, hardly eats, doesn't talk. Dongho honestly doesn't know what to do, because this is _way_ outside his pay-grade, and though it feels a bit like betrayal, shunting all of Daehyun's issues off to a therapist, it's better this way. 

Right?

Right.

Daehyun doesn't do cars - and Dongho can't blame him - so they walk to the appointment, the elder silently grateful that it's the early days of spring. A cool wind blows through the air, and Dongho glances at Daehyun out of the corner of his eye, taking in the too-long hair eclipsing dull eyes, the dark roots and prominent cheekbones, and he tries to conflate this with the bright-eyed boy he knows (knew) and comes up blank.

He's not good at this - a fact he's well aware of - but if nothing else, he can stay by Daehyun's side and dig up those similarities.

He refuses to believe the smiling singer the world fell in love with is gone forever.

No.

He's just... hiding for a while.

Yeah. That's it.

(god, is he delusional.)

⊹

Daehyun's not entirely sure why he's here.

He's sitting on the couch (alone) and a woman sits across from him, dark hair pulled into a loose bun and a clipboard in her lap.

Daehyun decides he doesn't like her.

"How are you feeling?" she asks, and he stares at her, unable to muster up any will to reply. 

_When did he turn into this?_ he wonders. _When did he turn into someone who chose the worst over the best, who started conversations negatively and preferred loneliness to company?_

He doesn't know the answer, and it scares him.

They sit in silence for a long, long time, and Daehyun thinks.

Dongho must want to get rid of him.

Daehyun can't really blame him, there. If he was Dongho, he'd want to get rid of him, too. 

He's a fucked-up mute who can't even _hug_ right, never mind whether or not he even deserves any sort of compassion.

Answer: he _doesn't_.

He's so, so selfish for wanting it anyways.

She's saying something, and Daehyun blinks, the distant buzzing perpetually filling his ears crescendoing into a dull roar. 

He can't hear her.

Maybe he really is dead.

Maybe that would be better.

(maybe, maybe, maybe- daehyun trades in maybes, and it's never, ever enough.)

☾

Jaewon's nightmares are the violent kind.

He wakes up screaming more often than not, each night jolting upright with tears drying on his cheeks, and each night, Daehyun's not in their shared room.

Jaewon can't blame him. 

He doesn't know what happened to Daehyun, doesn't know what stole the words from his lungs and the smile from his lips, but Daehyun won't say a thing, so it's impossible for him to guess.

Isn't that ironic?

One night, instead of wrapping himself up in blankets once more and squeezing his eyes shut in hopes of snatching snippets of sleep, Jaewon heads out to the living room, gaze immediately landing on a familiar head of greasy hair.

Daehyun's sitting on the couch, staring at nothing, and Jaewon tip-toes over, taking a seat next to him and just... watching, for a moment.

He's watching Daehyun, and Daehyun's watching nothing, so really, Jaewon's watching nothing, which feels a bit more true than he'd like to admit, but Daehyun's here, tangible, _breathing_ , and Jaewon reaches out to grasp his hand.

Daehyun flinches as soon as Jaewon's fingers - cold, cold, horribly cold - brush his hand, and his head whips around, eyes shining with a combination of horror, terror, and _guilt_.

It's the most expression he's seen on Daehyun's face since the accident, and he hates it.

"I'm sorry," Jaewon breathes, and Daehyun goes completely rigid as Jaewon wraps his arms around his torso, burying his face in the rough fabric of Daehyun's shirt and squeezing his eyes shut. "I'm so, so sorry, Dae-"

Daehyun doesn't reply.

"This is my fault," and isn't it telling how Jaewon can only admit this to someone who has no chance of responding? "This is- this is all my fault, Dae-"

Daehyun shakes his head - slow and mechanical - and Jaewon notes with a bit of detached hysteria that he's just as rigid as he was before. 

"You don't even know why," he laughs, "and you're saying it isn't?"

Daehyun stares at him for a moment, eyes dull, and he opens his mouth to respond, a pair of cracked words stumbling over his lips. 

"It's mine."

Jaewon shakes his head, blood running cold at the simple phrase. "No, no, Dae-"

"I should've done better," Daehyun rasps, and Jaewon pulls back, staring at him in horror. "I should've- should've-"

"No," Jaewon repeats, the word harsh and wounded. "No, no, Dae..."

"I'm sorry," Daehyun breathes, and Jaewon reaches up to brush tears from his cheeks, knowing more than anything that Daehyun needs comfort. "I'm so sorry-"

Jaewon tightens his grip, and Daehyun makes a small surprised noise that has his heart breaking all over again (and he's still so rigid, so painfully cold) as he presses his face to the crook of his dongsaeng's neck.

"It wasn't your fault," Jaewon breathes, infusing as much belief into his words as he can. "It wasn't your fault, Dae."

"You don't know what I did," Daehyun gasps, and Jaewon knows there's a wet patch growing on his shoulder, and he _doesn't care_. "You don't-"

"Then tell me."

Jaewon's no Minsoo, no incredible listener who can make all his dongsaeng's problems go away just by being there, but _goddamn_ if he isn't going to try.

"You'll hate me," Daehyun sobs, _begs_ , as if keeping this in can make everything better when it's so clearly tearing him apart. "You'll hate me."

"I could never hate you, Dae-yah."

"You _will_ ," Daehyun insists, voice trembling as he pulls back. "You can't- you can't promise that."

"I _can_."

Jaewon grasps his hands, and Daehyun freezes once more, the only motion that of a tear curving down his cheek. "I could _never_ hate you, Daehyun-ah," he vows, gripping the younger man's hands as tightly as he can. " _Never_."

"...you promise?"

Jaewon's heart _aches_ at that, because _god_ , Daehyun sounds so small, but he nods nonetheless.

"...after the van went off the road, I woke up on the roof. Hyung - Dongho-hyung - was just lying there, and he was bleeding all over and he wouldn't wake up, and I tried shaking him, but he wouldn't wake up, so I crawled out of the car to try and find you or Minsoo-hyung, but when I saw Minsoo-hyung, the snow was all red and he was so bloody and it was so, so cold, so I dragged him inside and tried to stop the bleeding, but it was so, so cold, I couldn't go back and look for you until the wind stopped, and by then you were so cold, and I thought you were dead, and there was so much red everywhere, and I'm _so sorry_ -"

"Breathe," Jaewon murmurs, and Daehyun sucks in a shallow breath, pupils dilated to the point that Jaewon can barely see his irises. "You're okay."

"It _wasn't okay,_ " Daehyun gasps, harsh and ragged. "It wasn't- it was so cold, it was so, so cold, and I thought you were going to die, and nobody would wake up, and it was so cold, and I got so hungry but I couldn't go and find anything because if I left, you could die, and it was cold all the time, and you could've died out there, and I should've gotten hurt worse, because it isn't fair that Minsoo-hyung's still in a coma and I'm _fine_ , not fair that I got out fine but still almost let you _die_ -"

Jaewon yanks him into a tight hug, and Daehyun chokes on his words, trembling in the redhead's grasp. 

"You did nothing wrong," he breathes, reaching up to thread his fingers through Daehyun's hair. "Oh, Dae..."

"You could've died!" Daehyun sobs, harsh and ragged. "You could've- could've died, and it would've been- would've been _my fault_ -"

"You saved my life, Dae," Jaewon breathes, and Daehyun wails, broken and tortured and _so, so pained_.

"No- no-"

"You're the reason I'm here today," Jaewon whispers, Daehyun's shaking hands grabbing handfuls of his shirt and refusing to let go. "You saved my life, Dae-yah."

"Ah... _ah_..."

It's like a string's been cut. Daehyun slumps into Jaewon's chest, tears streaming down his cheeks, and Jaewon rubs his back, letting his dongsaeng sob into his shirt.

"I'm sorry," he gasps, words muffled by tears. "Hyung-"

"It's okay," Jaewon murmurs, running his fingers through the younger man's hair. "It's okay, Daehyun-ah."

( _you have nothing to be sorry for._ )

♬

When Dongho walks in and sees Daehyun and Jaewon in the kitchen, he nearly chokes.

Jaewon's handling the cooking, music playing in the background as he flips pancakes and checks on meat, and Daehyun's sitting on the counter, not intervening, but... watching.

It's a divergence from the norm. 

It's a _stark_ divergence from the norm, actually, and Dongho has no idea what prompted it.

He leans against the refrigerator, taking a sip from his coffee, and Jaewon turns to him, the dark bags under his eyes all but hidden with the force of his grin.

"Daehyun-ah's helping me make pancakes!"

Dongho fucking _chokes_.

He's not sure if it's from surprise or from the fact that someone switched the salt with sugar, but the effect persists nonetheless.

Jaewon's gaze follows him as he stumbles to the sink, pouring the mug's contents down the drain and scrubbing at his chin with a paper towel. "What happened?"

"Salt," Dongho simply replies, gesturing in the vague direction of the salt shaker masquerading as something someone would actually like. "Why is the sugar salt?"

Jaewon's smile takes on a bitter quality, and he makes a gesture Dongho generously interprets as jazz hands. "Happy April Fools?"

Dongho stares at him, hoping to convey how unimpressed he is with just his eyes, and Jaewon laughs, so it must work.

"I know it's not really our holiday, but I thought we could use something to celebrate."

And _there_ goes the mood.

Without either of the group's moodmakers to lighten it (Minsoo being in a coma and Daehyun only a step removed) the mood's perpetually dismal, and a part of Dongho wonders whether or not it's ever going to rise.

But then-

that's what Jaewon was trying to do, wasn't it?

He catches sight of the faintest of smiles on Daehyun's lips, and opts to point out the logical thing before anyone tries Jaewon's cooking.

"You did use sugar in the batter instead of salt, right?"

"Oh-"

♬

Dongho's not sure _what_ Jaewon did, just that it made a difference.

It's slow, as all things are. It's achingly, painfully slow, but Daehyun starts to open back up.

Dongho really notices it in June (and minsoo's still asleep, a fresh vase of roses and a few tears left at his bedside) when Daehyun tilts his head, dark eyes sparking with irritation.

"It's hot."

"It is," Dongho simply hums, flipping the page of his book.

"...it's nice."

"It's nice?" Jaewon asks, and Dongho can barely see him under his bundles of ice-packs. "It's so _hot_ , Dae-yah. How are you not dying?"

"Heat tolerance," Daehyun quips, and when Dongho raises his head, he can see the hint of a smile teasing his dongsaeng's lips.

It startles him enough to make him drop his book, and _that_ startles Jaewon enough to make him jolt upright, almost all of his ice packs flopping to the ground in sad, cold heaps. They lock gazes for a moment before Jaewon giggles, a hand flying up to cover his mouth, but it's ultimately in vain.

Within moments, the redhead (and that's not really true - his hair is as black as it is red now) is curled up in a shaking ball on the couch, laughter floating through the air, and Dongho hazards a glance, only to see Daehyun's lips curled into a smile.

A bright, genuine, _Daehyun_ smile.

And oh, Daehyun still hasn't told him what he's so afraid of, and Jaewon hasn't either, but seeing them smile, bright and happy and _alive_ -

it's enough.

"I can tolerate heat," Jaewon huffs, scooping up a few ice packs and draping them over his legs. "I do heat!"

"Clearly," Dongho simply replies, and Jaewon giggles once more, and Dongho is _so, so horribly fond of them_.

The realization wallops him like a two-by-four, and he freezes, hand stilling over the cover of his book.

Somewhere along the way, these two managed to weasel their way into his heart, crawling into a place only Minsoo's ever occupied, and Dongho doesn't know what to do with this information other than to pick up the book and reopen it to a random page, staring at the nonsensical scribbles on the page. 

Is he replacing Minsoo?

☾

"Daehyun-ah didn't have nightmares last night."

Jaewon grips Minsoo's skeletal hand, warm fingers intertwining with ice-cold. "He says it's because I made him cuddle me, and I think Dongho-hyung's getting sick of seeing us hugging all the time."

Another squeeze, and Jaewon's hands drift to the wilting flowers next to his bed, roses in the same vase as sunflowers.

"He's doing so much better, hyung. I wish you could see it."

He squeezes - once - and keeps talking, gaze drifting to the distant horizon. "We're probably gonna have to go back to work soon. I don't... I don't really want to, hyung. Not after..."

He doesn't say it.

Can't say it.

(nobody knows, and that's for the best. this is jaewon's burden alone to bear.)

"Honestly, I'm surprised they gave us off this long... though I guess it's 'cause of Dae. He's doing so much better, y'know? Smiling and talking... he's doing so much better. I think you'd be proud of him."

He squeezes again - quick and fleeting - and blinks a few times, dispelling the haze from his vision. "I know you'd be proud of him."

The sun's setting, casting long shadows through the room, and Jaewon rubs Minsoo's palm with his thumb, a soft sigh escaping his lips. "...you can wake up now, hyung. You're... you're really worrying us, y'know? Dongho-hyung, and Minsung-ssi... he visits you every week. Always brings the sunflowers. He's really trying, hyung."

They're pale words, and Jaewon knows it.

"So... so you can wake up now, 'kay?"

He blinks a few times, trying to force the stinging out of his eyes with sheer willpower. "Please."

There's no response.

Jaewon didn't expect one.

His phone chirps, and he fishes it out of his pocket, lips curling into a grin at the sight of a text conversation between Dongho and Daehyun.

_daeby:_

_hyung_

_dongho-hyung:_

_What?_

_daeby:_

_can we have pizza tonight_

_dongho-hyung:_

_We had pizza two nights ago, Daehyun-ah._

_daeby:_

_yeah but_

_there's a new movie out and_

_i really wanna see it_

_dongho-hyung:_

_..._

_daeby:_

_you'll love it_

_it's about a magic catgirl_

_dongho-hyung:_

_What._

_daeby:_

_hawaiian?_

_thanks hyung <3~_

_dongho-hyung:_

_Brat._

"Wake up soon, hyung," Jaewon murmurs, giving Minsoo's hand one last squeeze before rising to his feet. "Please. We miss you."

∞

Quiet.

It's too quiet.

Things shouldn't be this quiet.

He doesn't like the quiet.

This is too quiet.

Someone's talking.

He doesn't know what they're saying.

But it's quiet.

Too quiet.

Why is it so quiet?

Loud.

He's a loud person.

He likes talking.

He doesn't like the quiet.

Talk.

He has to talk.

Move.

He has to move.

But he's so tired...

_No._

Move.

_"Please, please... wake up."_

Daehyun?

_"Please... we miss you."_

Jaewon?

_"...you better wake up soon, Minsoo-yah."_

Dongho?

_"Just... just wake up, please. Please, Minsoo."_

Minsung?

He has people.

People he's missing.

He has to wake up.

_"Minsoo!"_

∞

When he opens his eyes, he immediately shuts them again.

 _Fuck_ , is it bright. It feels like he's staring into the _sun_.

"Minsoo?"

Minsoo blinks a few times, prying his eyes open, and once he does, it takes him a moment to actually take in the room.

White walls, white sheets, wirey-looking-things, heart rate monitors-

A hospital, then.

He tries to turn his head, but it results in a weird sort of lolling motion, and he inwardly groans as his fuzzy gaze lands on a pastel-haired blob next to him.

Wait.

What?

"Min... sung?"

"Oh, god," Minsung (and that _is minsung why is he here_ ) breathes, and Minsoo feels someone grip his hand for dear life. It's Minsung - nobody else is in the room - and Minsoo tries to pull his hand out of his grasp, only to find his muscles aren't quite working properly.

How long has he been asleep?

His hyung leans over to whack a button in the wall, and within moments, a flurry of nurses and doctors rush into the room, Minsung disappearing in the chaos. And Minsoo-

feels lost.

Where is everyone?

What happened?

"What month is it?" he manages to ask, and one of the doctors stares at him with the "oh-you-poor-bastard" look Minsoo's seen so many times on Dongho's face.

"June."

A raw, pained sound escapes Minsoo's throat, because _no it isn't_. It's- it's _January_ , not- not _June_.

But it is.

It's June, and Minsoo's missed five months of his life.

⊹

Daehyun doesn't know how to feel.

Dongho's standing at his side, dark hair a cloud around his head and gaze carefully blank, and Jaewon's next to him, hair hidden under a hood and teeth perpetually embedded in his lower lip. 

_A bad habit_ , Daehyun thinks, then nearly laughs at his own hypocrisy.

In any case.

Dongho pushes open the door, knocking on the wall a few times to announce his presence, and as soon as they step into the room, Jaewon bursts into tears.

Daehyun-

isn't sure how to react, truth be told.

Because this is Minsoo, but he's not Daehyun - not this Minsoo's Daehyun, at any rate - and Minsoo's expecting _his_ Daehyun, but Daehyun doesn't know how to be that Daehyun anymore, doesn't know how to dance on the clouds when he's forgotten to fly, but at least he's reaching for the skies once more, so that should count for something, right?

"Hi," Minsoo grins, seeming a bit dazed as he raises one hand. "How... how're you guys doing?"

It's a lame question, and they all know it.

Not too lame for Jaewon, though, since the redhead all but throws himself on top of Minsoo, pressing his face into the crook of the leader's neck as meaningless apologies spill over his lips.

Daehyun knows these apologies - knows them well.

"Hi to you too," Minsoo grins, a bit awkwardly, and shoots a pleading glance at Dongho and Daehyun that reads as _"please help me"_.

Daehyun would laugh if he didn't want to cry.

"Hey," Dongho simply states, taking a seat in one of the chairs next to Minsoo's bed. "Missed you."

 _How does he do that?_ Daehyun wonders. _How does he act so natural when none of this is as it should be?_

For another selfish moment, he wishes he was in the bed.

It would be easier that way.

But no- he's been working on this. It's a good thing he isn't in the bed. It's _good_.

So why doesn't he believe it?

"Hey," Minsoo grins, peeking over the top of Jaewon's head to peer at Daehyun. "I haven't grown fangs, y'know."

Daehyun will attribute his next actions to personal growth. Dongho attributes them to him "still being a kid" despite all the evidence to the contrary. 

All the same, he walks over to Minsoo's bed, wraps his arms around his hyung's waist, and climbs into the bed next to Jaewon, face pressed into the papery hospital gown and tears stinging his eyes.

"Woah, hey," Minsoo laughs, reaching up to pat his head. "I missed you too, Dae."

Daehyun isn't listening. This- Minsoo patting his hair, Jaewon next to him, Dongho close enough to touch if he so wished - this is perfect.

His heart swells - traitorous, beautiful, _happy_ \- and he lets it.

Everyone's okay.

**Author's Note:**

> my brain: don't do a timeskip  
> satan: do a timeskip  
> me: yes
> 
> yes i cut it short. i may add a second chapter if there's enough demand, but for the moment, i'm content with this.
> 
> please point out if i missed any important tags!!!
> 
> alternate title: i would die for you if i knew that you would make it through  
> fic title: ghosts, jeremy zucker  
> recommended listening besides that: losing you, wonho + all the kids are depressed, jeremy zucker + self-inflicted achromatic, jubyphonic
> 
> [twit](https://twitter.com/i_was_human_) | [lit fic discord!](https://discord.gg/CNunB74)


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